I Hope
by made.for.life
Summary: 007 is out on a mission for Queen and Country. Q is on stand-by, as usual. He gets a rather odd call in from the agent and it opens up a world of hurt but a new world too.


"Anybody there?" Bond asked casually into his earpiece.

"Nope, no one at all Double-O Seven." Q quipped.

There was a rasp from the other side.

Q scowled. "What was that? Are you injured?"

"Q." Bond silenced him. "Are you busy?"

"I will be if you choose to leave on your own." Q snarked, fingers poised over the keyboard from another of 007's famous gallivants.

The agent snorted. "I'll be good this time. I'll wait for the extraction team. No hurry."

"Oh dear, someone call the mortician, Bond's waiting for a team." The quartermaster teased. "Feeling your age a bit?"

A breathy laugh filled the room. A few of the other people monitoring the mission with Q snorted with amusement.

"Q, do you live alone?" Bond suddenly asked.

The man quirked a brow, "Why? Planning on proposing?"

"Oh damn, I forgot the ring." 007 bit back.

Q snickered. Then he shifted his shoulders in a light stretch. "No I live with my cat, Sofia. She fairly dominates my space."

"No girlfriend then?"

"No time." The quartermaster slid into his chair.

"Do you have a favorite kind of coffee?"

"Twenty questions now Agent Double-O Seven?" The curly haired man picked up a pen and played it between his fingers.

They heard a thump from Bond's end. Q was about to stand up when Bond spoke again. "Just missing the mellifluous sounds of your voice." He huffed.

Q tipped his head. The pen in his fingers stopped its slow rotation. The agent sounded exhausted. Out of breathe even which was odd for the man who was keeping himself so well in shape recently.

He finally sighed indulgently. "Well I do like to hop over to Costa Coffee every once in a while."

"The new one?"

"Yeah." Q grinned. "That fancy new double-decker place by the railroad. I get off there on my way in. Recently I tried their Cortada there and fell desperately in love with it and a hint of caramel on the side. I haven't tried much else there but I might eventually. It's a fairly good place to work as well. Free wifi, if you know what that is." Sarcasm ladened his voice.

"I would hope you try something different there once in a while."

For some reason 007's voice was growing less banter filled and more serious with each passing second. Q worried at the edges of his pen. He jumped in his seat when it clicked under his fingers.

The quartermaster cleared his throat. "I'm sure I will. Eventually."

"This is my last mission Q."

The curly haired man squinted warily. "Are you quitting after this?"

"I won't be moving after this." Bond replied snappishly. He sighed heavily into his communication link.

Q was on the computer in an instant. "What do you mean? What happened? Hang on, I'll get you out."

"Q." The deadly tone froze everyone who had sprung into action. "Don't. They won't make it in time. What I need you to do is listen to me."

"I hardly see-" Q went to argue.

"Listen to me!" 007 commanded.

From kilometers away, the voice echoed through the room. Everything went silent. Q sat down heavily. The pen hit the floor and it was the loudest thing anyone had ever heard in their life.

"I hope that someday you'll come home and your cat has run away. I hope that you go to Costa coffee and they've struck your favorite flavor off the menu for good and they're never bringing it back. I hope that someone you love breaks your heart for absolutely no reason. I hope you come so close to death that you can smell the stink of its reeking breath. I hope that you invent something and it fails so miserably you don't dare show your face for days."

Q was taken aback. It hurt. A lot. More than it should have.

"I-I didn't know you hated me." He stuttered.

"Q." Bond growled. "Shut up." He took a big shuddery breath.

"I hope that when you are crying for your cat, knowing she's gone, that she comes home. I hope you try every flavor of coffee and have so many favorites that it takes you an hour to choose which one you feel like that day and then they bring your favorite back and you can't decide if you still like it or not. I hope someone is there to pick up the pieces of your soul and stitch themselves into your heart. I hope you shove death back with your newest invention.

Goddamn it, Q I hope you win a Nobel Prize if you want to. I hope you invent something so fucking spectacular that everyone is struck with awe and that you die fifty years before they ever figure out how you did it. I hope you get over your fear of flying and visit every place in the world that even piques your interest. I hope you have as many genius spawn as you can tolerate and that they banter with you even when you're a grumpy old codger.

You're an excellent man Q. The higher ups respect you. Your minions worship the ground that you stand on. I couldn't have asked for a better quartermaster. I hope that when you die, you do so with a smile on your face, cackling like a madman over every hilarious instance in your life. I also hope that someday, the day you pass on, you repeat these words to some else."

There was an absolute kind of silence that was filled only by the labored and worsening breath wrenching in and out of the agent's throat.

"It's been a pleasure serving with you Q."

"It's been an honor serving with you Double-O Seven." Q finally said, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

The line burbled as Bond swallowed. "This is Bond, James Bond, signing out."

The line cut off. Q nodded quietly. Silence fell respectfully across the room. Q let it reign for a minute. A minute and a half at most.

"Extraction team." The quartermaster jerked back into command. "You are clear to enter. Retrieve the USB and the body of agent Double-O Seven."

* * *

Q didn't shed a tear at Bond's funeral. He actually laughed when he got up to the coffin. The man was smirking! Even in death 007 was just as suave and alive as ever. His eyes were left open for whatever stupid reason someone had conjured up to do that. Q could see himself reflected in the glassy ice blue orbs.

He abruptly met the agent's replacement right there and then. The quartermaster had already been briefed on her. She was younger than he was, a real looker too. Quick to bed her targets and even quicker to castrate them as they slept. She was fast and smart and quick tongued with a rapid banter that could leave a head spinning.

"Good morning quartermaster." She held out her hand.

Her eyes were an absolute ice blue with an almost glassy quality. Q could see himself reflected in both of them over the easy hanging smirk.

"Good morning."


End file.
